Proxy of Nine
by PorterMillerSeries1
Summary: A Slenderman story, that deals with The Observer and a group of nine friends. Some of which are slowly loosing their sanity to him and his proxies. With the fear of one friend already dead and two missing, they decide to hunt for the creature, not aware of his true potential.
1. Beautiful Funeral

**12/31/12 (2:55pm) - Day Ten**

There was a shift in the wind, everyone could feel it. However the ones who truly noticed it were the only ones involved. John Connolly, age 18, had felt it first. A sudden omen which he didn't care about, not today at least. Even before day one, he never really believed in karma. Good nor bad. True he believed everything happened for a reason but his thoughts on karma might as well relate to good and bad luck.

"I am the Resurrection and the life." The priest began. "God so loved the world that He gave His only son, so that all who believe in Him may have eternal life."

A quiet wave of mournful weeps and cries had past down the rows of chairs. One women in particular held a handkerchief under her eyelids the whole time. She knew what had happen, had she been there when he had died, she'd had probably gone with him.

The priest continued with the service. His sermon was powerful, a loving spiritual speech that had impacted everybody spiritually. Rob was my only concern, standing with the same angry emotion he seemed to always have. One more violent since the beginning of day one.

Robert Kelso, age 18, was a man of many things but patience wasn't one of them. The group could go on for hours about his faults if they wanted to, however they knew better then to complain. Especially on such a dismal day, their minds were focused on the departed. Today should've been a day of peace and tranquility, to honor a person for the love and joy they brought to those around him. However, he wasn't full of love or joy when he had died. No, he hadn't been himself.

Vincent Valdez, age 19, never spoke ill of the dead. In fact he hated anyone that did. Whether the person was good or bad, he condemned anyone that did. He loved his friends as if they were brothers and he'd thought he never live to see the day when one of them left their world.

The priest continued to pray, he was a close friend to the family of the departed. He began to talk about how the departed was "there when you needed him" and "a great man of God". He continued with how "we shouldn't remember him because of notoriety in the town of Green Rook, Connecticut, but with what he had left us in spiritual guidance".

"Bullshit, they didn't know him. None of them do.. fuckin' morons" Rob said in a low tone of voice. He lowered his head and leaned up against the rock wall that surrounded Green Rook cemetery. Even in a time of poignancy, he still tried to act cool.

"Hey, Rob. Cool it, were at a funeral for Gods sake, show some respect" Vincent said. The both hushed up to listen to a poem spoken by the departed's mother.

The four of them stood in the back, watching the service from a keen distance. What they've went through, their social skills have begun to deteriorate. Both Vinnie and Matt had lost their jobs, Rob his girlfriend, Heather her friends, and John his mind.

In the midst of their sorrow, the man next to John, Greg had taken out his video camera and begun to record the service. Gregory Hanson, age 17, had just bought an silver Panasonic SDR-H100 camcorder as a replacement for the one that had been digitally disrupted fro unknown reasons. Greg was one of the very first to become disturbed and paranoid with the event that had occurred over the past 10 days. He recorded everything, he logged everything and everybody, and he put it on his computer, not before saving it to an emergency flash drive which he kept as hung on a silver chain around his neck.

Greg was always mocked, but for some reason he never cared. He could be considered "that one guy" in a group of friends that everybody picks on. The nine of them knew each other since middle school. They were good friends that always hung out. Even before they started to dislike Rob, he was there for them, he always came through for them in times of need. Nor really times that could be counted as "important" or rather "serious" but the minor stuff he did for the group had earned him respect and good friends. Remember though; this all was in the past.

The camera beeped once, signalling low memory space. Greg had used it to record himself while he was sleeping, so that future incidents wouldn't occur without him knowing.

Rob had noticed him videotaping the funeral and furiously slammed the side panel shut and shoved the camera into Greg's chest.

"What the fuck do you think you doing?!" Rob asked in the quietest voice possible. At least, _to him_ it was quiet. It had only attracted two people sitting in the back row. He had been lucky, and had been restraining himself.

"Are you seriously filming? Now, of all times?" Vince whispered aggressively.

"Look I just.. feel like we need this. We need to know what's happening to us" Greg replied.

John looked at the three of them and remained silent, he didn't want to get involved. Sadly for him he was already in it.

"No, you don't pull that kind of shit at a fuckin' funeral. Next time you do, I'm going to smash that damn thing, brought us nothing but shit" Robert finished. He returned to his spot, no happier then he was before. That look in his eyes made everybody worrisome, but he didn't care, now that Jesse was out of his life he couldn't care about anyone.

"Look I was just trying to help. I didn't mean any.."

"We know Greg. It's just.. now's not the best time" Vince replied.

"Didn't help us much in the past either" Rob mumbled under his breath.

The preacher went on, his hands dipped in holy water and made the pattern of the cross on the casket. The family members, friends, and other relevant guests began to walk around the casket to say their last sobbing goodbye's to the departed.

"Dude, can we just leave? I mean I frickin' hate this kind of shit man" Rob said.

"How the hell can you say that? He's our friend and out of all nine of us, I mean, he probably suffered the most" Vince relied. His could feel his face become red with anger and he hated showing negative emotion at a funeral service.

John looked back over and caught his anger. He simmered down pretty quickly to his regular passive state.

"I mean I hate these damn goodbye's I know he's our friend but the reality is he's fuckin' dead, what can we do about it" Rob replied in a exhausted tone.

Greg looked back over to him in shock that he could just say that. "That's cold man"

"Well it's the truth! What the fuck can we do?"

"We can honor him as he is" John said. The others looked at him in shock, as if they forgotten he was with them. Rob took a deep sigh and hung his head in depression. Vince said nothing, as he felt as if he was going to tackle Rob. Greg couldn't agree more, but the fact that his camera wasn't out made him uneasy.

The funeral was finishing up, the last words of the priests were his strongest. It's sad to say that he didn't go out as tough as he should have.

For a December in Connecticut, it was pretty warm out, no snow, no freezing cold winds, just nothing. It was actually rather peaceful. A slight breeze every now and then. Clear sunny skies, it was actually a beautiful day out. A sad day to have a funeral but it was quite beautiful. John's mind was in a flurry of thought. A civil war between his own thought's of reality and what he has seen for the past 10 days. He couldn't fit any of it together. He usually wasn't so quiet but today he wasn't himself. It mind focused on _that thing_. That thing that took a life of his friend, captured two, and put one in the hospital for god knows how long. How long was it before _it_ came back for them? And that symbol.. it couldn't leave his brain. It was always and always will be, watching.

* * *

**Day 10 - (4:55) That** **Evening **

That evening they had left the funeral. Greg had suggested going to the hospital to see their friend Chloe and how she was holding up. However, it was Robert's complaining and constant bickering about being hungry that made Vince pull over at a Friendly's restaurant. **  
**

They arrived and took their booth, after being seated they perused the menu's on the "famous" ice cream served restaurant. Even in the adult menu they seem to have childish cartoon's running around the edges of the menu saying "I want to go to friendlies" and "Everything's better with ice cream" and none of them could really argue with that.

"Being in a place like this when our friend just died is disgusting" Rob said.

"Your the one who wanted to stop and eat. Wouldn't shut up about it either" Vince replied.

Rob shrugged, couldn't argue with him. He laid his arms down on the table and buried his head into his arms. Muffling swears and obscenities, he was going through the same state that John was but in like him, Rob didn't suppress his emotions. After a few minutes, a cute blond, probably around the age of 22, took our order for drinks.

"You alright John? You haven't said much" Vince asked.

"Well can you blame the poor fucker? Dudes girlfriend is gone, how the hell would you feel?" Rob insisted, not taking into notice of the families around him who just heard him curse.

"Shut up Rob, Heathers.. with us but not in her right state of mind" John replied aggressively. He dug his finger nails into the side of his head, not caring what pain he felt back there.

After a few seconds of silence Greg returned from the bathroom. He slipped into a booth with Rob, trying but failing to tuck away his camera into his jacket pocket. Him just being present had already caught the eye of the three of them at the booth, so attempting to hide his camera was useless.

"Relax guys, I was just figiting around with some settings, nothing to get pissy over" Greg said defensively.

"Bro, nobody was accusing you" Vince said.

They all looked at his blushing red face which he tried to hide in the Friendly's menu. He looked around to see the same three guys starring at him.

"What?"

"You were making a video log in the Friendly's bathroom, weren't you?" John asked.

"Absolutely not! That sick man!" He said defensively again.

"The bathroom? Really?" Vince pointed out.

"We told you to knock it off with the damn camera!" Rob lashed out.

"Well what the hell are we suppose to do? Sit here and eat ice cream, knowing two of our friends are still out there with.._IT_" Greg said.

The mentioning of "IT" had made the group very uneasy and nervous. Even Robert had settled down. They all looked at Vince who had been tapping his finger loudly on the table. He shook his head, letting out a deep sigh. He put his head back against the cushioned booth and sat their, starring at the chandelier above.

"The Observer" John finally said.

This name didn't go over so well with the others. Rob slammed both fists into the table, making the silverware jump and clang together. Grabbing the hair on the back of his head, he was nearly at the breaking point of tearing it out. John was moved by Rob, he didn't fear him, nor hate him, he just wanted Heather back and for all this madness to stop. Greg bit his lower lip at the name, he remembered seeing that symbol for the first time. Thinking nothing of it and moving on, but then again, and again, and again, until it drove him mad. Not to mention the recent activity that came with seeing it. Vince was pissed off at the name as well as Rob was. He lost his job and his only source of income, now he's trying to get a job back, since he's on leave from college for Christmas vacation. The rest of them were in their senior year of high school.

"Okay listen. If we're going to talk about.. you know who, we're going to need to have everyone here first"

"Paul?" John asked.

"Yeah, he has much to do with this then any of us. It did all start at his house" Vince replied.

John looked to Rob and Greg. He had wondered why he hadn't shown himself during the service. John's thoughts became heavy with fear, was he still alive? Or did they take him as well. Victim of the proxy or maybe just killed in his sleep, these thing were factors one needed to recognize when you are dealing with The Observer.

"Where is he? He never showed up at the closed-casket ceremony either" Greg asked.

"I don't know but it worries me, last time I heard he was checking up on Chloe" Vince said.

"That was _two_ days ago man!" Robby insisted.

"I know. I know. Hang on, I'll give him a call" Vince said with a trembling voice. He put the phone to his ear. His fears could have been more started. Just by picking up a phone and no answer could mean that a friends life was in danger or it was. One ring went by, Vince cursed to himself.

The table was completely quiet. All that could be heard were the families around them. John rested his chin on his fist and looked at Vince's phone as if he was waiting for Paul's face to pop out and say "Hello, I'm alive!". It wasn't long before he lost interest and looked back at the menu's on their table, opening he began to peruse the meals again.

"Happy New Years Eve guys"

* * *

**Author: **_Hey guys, I hope you like my new Slenderman story and will continue reading on with me as I post new chapters. I know there thing's I've left out like "Who died" but all in good time it will be revealed. Just to let you readers know.. I'm a big fan of plot twists :D_


	2. Soda and Vomit

**12/31/12 (5:04 pm) - Day Ten **

"Hey Paul! Scared the shit out of me man, get over to Friendly's. We need to talk" Vince said.

The four of their hearts pounded with relief. It made them easy knowing their friend Paul was okay but they hoped for more then that, they wanted answers. John cracked his knuckles violently, both a painful and relaxing addiction which he had started. His mind was constantly thinking about The Observer and by just sitting there, he felt like he was more useful watching paint dry.

"No. NO! We need you, I'm not giving you an option. This isn't a choice Paul. Our friend is dead, how the heck can you just sit back and be okay with this? Your, no the least bit infuriated?"

John's addiction became louder and more intense. He started to crack each finger more than once, two, three times. He wasn't satisfied until he felt something. Greg looked at Rob who had started to lean across the table towards Vinnie.

"You tell that fucker that if he doesn't come down here, I will PERSONALLY escort him"

Vinnie didn't speak. Paul's response was immediate, seeing as he obviously heard Rob's suggestion, he didn't mind sending a few words back. His response had been so incomprehensible, that the sounds coming through the speaker had been nothing but murmurs and mumbles in which only Vinnie could understand pretty well.

The others sat their listening to Vince's one way conversation to Paul. Rob didn't really care about facts or who was here with them. He was a man of progression and putting together this so-called team was childish to him. A waste of precious time. He just wanted to find the people responsible and get his revenge. He sat there with his head resting in his palm and a knife scraping against the wood of the table. The letters _JS_ had been carved there deep, within the mahogany wood of the family restaurant. He had missed Jesse Sanson, and would do anything to get her back. Sometimes however, you have to let your emotions go to see the truth of things.

"Hey, did you guys order drinks while I was in the bathroom?"

"Yeah" John replied.

"Yes. The right turn on Johnson Ave, off route 4. Any other details just map quest the details. wouldn't see why you'd need to, since you love this place" Vince's voice became more gentle, one so calm that he could reason with anybody. John looked to him with concern in his eyes. If Paul really did come, what could they actually do? It would end in more misery and possibly another loss. He couldn't take that again.

"So who ordered for me?" Greg asked. His reply was only answered with a shrug from John. He had actually forgotten, his memory was not what it used to be.

"I did" Rob said.

"What you get me?"

"Mountain Dew"

Rob wasn't really focused on Greg's irrelevant question. His eyes were locked on Vince's droid and did not move. At this point he had so much anger he needed out of his system that he dragged the knife along the edge of the table. He left six long engravings across the initials of his girlfriend. He didn't seem to notice, but at this point he just wanted blood.

"Really, dew? I wanted Sprite" Greg said in a disappointing matter.

"Dammit Greg! Same fuckin' taste different companies get over it!" Rob said slamming his knife down into the other utensils.

Greg couldn't have disagreed more. Mountain Dew had a different taste, but he didn't bother arguing with Robert. John and Vince looked at the both of them. As Vince was listening to Paul's voice over the phone, he stuck out his pinky towards Rob's hand. The knife had dug across his hand as it had slammed down, leaving a thin line of blood. Rob looked at it and laughed. He shook his head with disbelief and frustration but in his mind he hated the sight of blood. He wasn't hemophobic, he was just tired of seeing it.

"Great. Blood. As if we haven't already lost half our bodies worth already" Rob said. He wiped the blood from the knife and wrapped his cut in the napkin.  
Vince hung up.

"Alright, he's on his way"

"Hey do you mind if I get the last amount of battery life to record our conversation when Paul arrives? I mean, since we are going over what we know, we should have it on film" Greg suggested.

"You know, all the data you need hangs around your neck" John said pointing at the flash drive.

"Yeah.. but I would just feel more secure if it was on. I'm so used to being watched"

_"I'm so used to being watched" _That line repeated itself over and over again in John's mind. He cupped his hands and blew warm air in them as if he was cold. Thing was it was perfectly warm inside. Greg had just taken off his coat because of the fact he was hot.

"Not to mention it's memory is almost out"

"Fine" Vince said grudgingly.

John blew more hot air into his hands, rubbing them together at a speed that you would be if you were putting on lotion or some hand care product. Finally pulling himself together he rested his hands on the table.

"However, that flash drive... It would be nice to see some old files so we could get some kind of refresher on what _IT_ wants from us. Maybe we missed.. something" John said, shrugging and shaking his head. His fingers twitched rapidly. He needed something to occupy his patience.

"NO! no. no. no. You see that's what's fucking wrong with your guys. You always say _IT, _and what's stupid is that you know it's not_ IT, _it's_ THEY _or_ THEM_" Robert exclaimed as his heart pulsed with excitement.

"Rob.."

"No fuck off Vin, it's _THEY_. As in, more than one of these things giving us hell! What's sad is that you three seem to deny that The Observer isn't the only thing hunting us! Rob sat back and ran his finger through his hair. Exhausted he decided to speak a little more passively.

* * *

**{12/21/12} Paul Romano's house - Day One (1:00pm)**

Paul Romano, age 18, is a care free kind of guy. He was the type of guy who was never really much of a trouble maker. Not that he didn't look for it, he just hated having to use energy to do it. Truth is he loved cheap thrills. Some might call him lazy for this but that wouldn't necessarily be correct. Maybe a little.

He was a good friend to the rest of the group. Supportive, funny, charismatic, and would definitely be there for anyone so long as there was a cheap thrill involved.

Paul wore a dark and light grey, checkerboard light jacket with a white undershirt. A grey and blue beanie. Dark blue denim jeans and black hawks. Paul sat on his living room couch starring blankly at the Nazi World War 2 program on the history channel. He often nodded off, as he would slowly drift into his unconscious state, the only thing that would wake him was the sound of American or German gunfire.

He pulled the beanie over eyes and finally put down the fourth Dr. Pepper he's had on the night stand next to him. With a loud, exhausting sigh Paul sank bank in his chair. His hand was soaked from condensation from his soda, wiping the sweat from his brow he didn't realizing that he was just spreading more liquid. The television flickered once, a light distortion of color and static flooded the t.v but only for a few seconds before returning to normal.

The burst of static had awoken Paul immediately, but as he pulled up his beanie his eyes only met a historian, talking about the famous German won battle - The Battle of the Bulge.

He waited for his heart beat to slow down, he hadn't expected so much noise from the television, even for a WW2 show. In fact he wasn't annoyed one bit. The historians ongoing lecture about the battle was just what he needed to pass out to. Once again Paul pulled down his beanie and began to pass out.

Five minutes, not even five minutes could Paul rest before another distraction and this time he wouldn't be going back to sleep. A constant banging at Paul's front door had reawaken him for good.

_Fuck it, who needs sleep_..Paul thought, emerging from slothfulness. Robby and his girlfriend Jesse stood on the front porch, waiting patiently, but they wouldn't receive much hospitality. Paul answered the door, his head in the clouds and his eyes still fixated on the t.v.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Paul said in a groggy morning voice. Despite the fact it was in the afternoon, Paul could still sound like he had woken up from a coma.  
"Dr. peps in the fridge" He continued.

"Cheeky bastard! You know me so well Paul" Rob said. The two of them entered, Rob went straight to the kitchen and Jesse entered the living room. Rob wore a red shirt, blue basketball shorts, and blue and white tennis shoes. Jesse wore her usual Green Rook High School sweatshirt, which was probably Robby's. She wore white short shorts and yellow striped sneakers.

Paul made his way to the living room, chugging down the last of his soda. His eye caught the attention of Jesse who was looking at the three soda can piled neatly on top of one another.

"How many of these did you have?" Jessa asked.

Paul casually walk over to the tower and added the fourth can. He was like an artist finally finishing up his masterpiece.

"Holy shit man, you texted me saying you got more soda?!" Rob called from the kitchen.

"I did! It's on the damn counter!" Paul replied.

"I swear, this crap flows through your veins more then your blood" Jesse said as she walked into the kitchen. "Your going to give yourself diabetes ya know"

"Don't say that Jess, he's going to take that as a challenge!" Rob said laughing.

"To late! It's going to happen!" Paul called back.

The three of them hung out in the kitchen for the past half our before John and Heather showed up unexpectedly. By then half of the Dr. Peppers had been gone, majority of them drunken by Paul. John and heather were just as surprised with the level of soda intake Paul digested as much as Jess and Rob were. Although Paul couldn't really care, soda taste good, gave him energy, what's not to love?

"So how are you guys spending this wonderful apocalypse?" John asked.

"Shit, that's today huh?" Rob asked.

"I can't believe I completely forgot. Seems like the whole "end of the world spiel" intensified like a year ago and died out this year" Heather said.

The subject seemed to spark a lively debate in Paul's house. Ironically, it would be one in which Paul's would not take place in.

They left the kitchen at 2:30pm and by 2:45 they were each scattered throughout the house. Chase King, age 18, had also came by after dropping off some old box's to his brothers apartment. His brother, Daniel king, had just finished his junior year in college and Chase had been helping him move apartment.

Chase was kind of like Paul in his own way. They both loved t.v but Chase was a nut over a good television show. If he saw it, liked it, he would watch every season until the end or until cancellation. He wore a white t-shirt he bought after watching the show, "Revolution". Just a simple short sleeve with the letter M and a circle around it, symbolizing the Monroe Militia. He was dark blue jeans and black and grey checkerboard hawks.

Chase stopped by between 2:45 and 3:00 but hadn't left until 4. Rob, John, and Chase had been downstairs playing Call of Duty 4 on Paul's Xbox 360. Heather and Jess were talking in the kitchen while Paul, who was up and his room, had been checking anything on Facebook that was not about complaints, how bad a persons relationship was, or anybody asking for a "truth is".

"Texting Chloe?" Jesse asked, taking a sip of her soda.

"Yeah, it sucks, says she can't make it to Paul's" Heather replied.

"Shame, how come?"

"Dunno really, all she says is that it's a family emergency" Heather said. Her fingers pecked away at her black and white blackberry.

"Damn, seriously? That's like her fourth one in the past two weeks"

"Makes you wonder"

The sound of Paul coming down the stair was like imitating the sound of thunder. Jumping off the last step, he came to a skidding halt at the doorway of the kitchen.

"How's it goin' ladies?" Paul asked. His eyes were aimed at the soda.

"Hey Paul" They both replied.

Paul's hunt for interesting threads on Facebook was discouraging but his faced looked even worse as he saw the amount of food and drinks that had been in his fringe. A cool gust of air burst through the freezer as if it had been held prisoner. The chilly wind felt nice to Paul, a relaxing icy sensation but at the same time gave him goosebumps.

"Oh hey Paul, I don't know if you realize but Chase is here" Heather said, jotting out another text to Chloe.

"Why the hell do people always come to my house? I mean I'm okay with it but cleaning out my food? Mom's going to be pissed at me" Paul said, opening yet another can of Dr. Pepper.

"We love you to Paul!" Jesse said with a slight laugh.

**(Greg: I thought you said it started at Paul's?)  
**

**(Rob: I did, shut up and let me finish!)  
**

**(Vince: I wasn't there to witness any of this so it's all new to me)**

**(Rob: Everybody just shut up! Greg, we didn't know where the hell you were at the time but none of us could get any messages out! We were being put in a cage and poked at with a stick, this fucker.. these assholes, seem to ruin anything electronic!)  
**

All rooms in the house suddenly got dark. The type of situation where it took a couple of seconds to sink in and realize that a total black out had occurred. The basement was pitch black, nothing seem to work.

It seems as though in a time of a black out there had to be at least one guy to try and turn something on. He knew it was useless but somehow deep in there mind, turning of electronics without actually physically doing it was an unnatural occurrence. Chase's body froze, he could literally feel his veins become icy and arms becoming numb. He started to shiver.

"Fuck!" Rob said, throwing the 360 controller on the couch. "Total B.S John, if the house hadn't been EMP'd then I wouldn't won!"

"I don't know man, seems like I was catching up" John said sternly.

"Dude, you were 15 kills behind. With less then two minutes on the clock, you'd be lucky to receive four!"

"I guess we'll never know huh?" John said laughing. Robert had flipped him off but John hadn't caught it.

Robert walked on eggshells, slowly creeping through the black basement he found himself only able to see from his knee's up. Three long glares of sun punch through the blinds of the window. Since they were under ground, the only window down there had been overlooking Paul's backyard from ground level.

"Kinda trippy" John said, moving his hand up and down below his knees, watching it dissolve beneath the darkness. Chase's heart began to beat harder and harder, sweat trickled from his head like a tiny river. A ringing in his head and a muffled voice, knocked on his brain as if it were a door. Something wasn't right with him.

He breathing had deepened. Almost a slow, steady breathing but abnormally loud to their ears. As John played with the darkness beneath him, Rob had noticed Chase in absolute fear. His body shook from time to time but the thing was that he kept blowing warm air into his hands as if it was cold.

"Yo, you alright dude?" Rob said, motioning toward Chase.

Chase was the type of person to be pretty spirited to others, fun and easy going. However, as he ran his fingers through his thick blond hair, he body started to quiver. He whispered to himself, talking low and under his breath so that nobody else to hear him.

"Yeah, well I'm going to find Paul. See what we can do about turning on the lights" John said. He continued up the stairs until disappearing into the darkness that covered the first floor. Everyone else upstairs could be heard talking also, scrambling in fact, just to see where they were. Rob's attention turnwed toward Chase again, as he had gotten up.

"I'm fine, just gotta shit"

"Right. Well people don't really go into the fetal position when they need to shit. Unless they.." Rob stopped for a moment to let Chase walked by, a weird feeling in the air had also passed. It was a disruption in the atmosphere, he could sense some sort of shifting. He felt out of place, a slight dizziness. Only to be sent by the slamming of the bathroom door. Robert's mind wandered, he himself was looking at the bathroom door but it was as if he had memorized the whole basement level in a matter of seconds.

He could perfectly tell where the positions of the rock bands such as Green Day and Avenged Sevenfold had been placed. He new where exactly he had left the dumbbell's in the other room. The flat screen t.v attached to the wall, hadn't moved but Robert looked at it as if it had legs.

The fuck is going on with me? He thought.

Chase's condition was much more somber then the rest of the theirs. Chase hadn't used the toilet at all, but instead shot out a river of black ooze into the sink. His body went cold, his eyes throbbed in his sockets, and the ringing in his head had only gotten louder. He clenched the counter top harder and harder, the hard decorative rock, cracked and chipped away at his fingernails.

He was forced to released more. He through his head down again, and the dark gelled substance came out even faster. It wasn't vomit, not this time. Nor was it blood. Chase tried and tried to wash it out, turning both faucets on to at least reduce the visibility of the scum. It didn't go away. It stained Paul's sink with a black coating of what seemed to be paint at first glance, but tasted far worse.

It tasted like shit to be honest. Shit that had poisoned his taste buds and corrupted his mouth. Chase's body quivered uncontrollably, his icy temperature dropping but the head only got hotter. The muscles in his arms began to pulse as well, moving oh so closer to his fingertips. He felt his arms grow heavy, and they were the only things to keep him from floating away. His head felt as if it was growing at an exponential rate. Chase soon lost sight in his left eye.

He tried to scream for help, he really did, but his voice was so dry and cracked he had felt like the only thing he had to drink in a while was hot desert sand. He hadn't even noticed him. Chase froze, he couldn't move, not even vomit. The fear in his mind grew, and so did the ringing. Louder then his heart beat, the black robed man behind him stood silently, silently and patiently.

Chase's mouth hung in fear, his eyes starring at the robed man's reflection in the mirror. He stood at 6 foot one. A white colorless mask had covered his face. Chase had stopped breathing all together. The man stood tall, towering over Chase but not by much. He held a sledgehammer in one hand, the metal head of the mallet tapped repeatedly against the bathtub. Each metallic tap was like his heart beat, the sounds began to coincide. Soon enough the tapping of the hammer was in sync with Chase's heart beat. Chase couldn't even think, as if his mind was in the man's tightening grip, but that was the fear taking over his body.

As the man stepped forward, Chase could feel his throat begin to fill violently with the taste of blood.


	3. Control

**12/31/12 (5:37 pm) - Day Ten**

It didn't matter how long he starred into his rear view mirror, his face never changed from its sad, restless state. His eyes were dimmed, as if low on fuel, but that wasn't his eye that needed energy. It was his own mind. The skin on his face was damaged, cracked in fact, the lines of torment that mark his face had divided it up. The fleshy feel of a human touch could no longer be recognized by him, all he felt was dry, painful torment. If he wanted to, he could dig his fingernails just under his lower eyelid and pull down, bringing a heap of dead and dusty skin down to his chin. Best not add to my misery, he thought.

Paul took one more sad look into his rear view mirror and adjusted his grey and blue beanie. He hadn't slept in three days, his body was still getting adjusted to the caffeine of constant soda's that dissolve his body from the inside out. Truth was, he couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept in three days not because of his obsession with Dr. Pepper but because of his constant dreams.

Every night, waking him up at exactly 2:10am was that same damn dream that wouldn't leave his thoughts. After he awoken, his body had felt like he had been choked or someone had been suffocating him. After that, sleep was not an option. His mind had been consumed with fear and within those thoughts of horror came some miniscule amount of excitement. You see, fear brought adrenaline, adrenaline brought the rush, the thrill of being scared had given him enough energy to stay awake for the rest of the night, and Paul was a sucker for cheap thrills.

He was weak, having to shut his own car door twice just because he hadn't had enough energy to force it shut the first time. He wore his dark and light grey checkerboard jacket, a blue undershirt, and dark blue jeans. As he opened the front door to the restaurant, he was greeted with the warm, buttery scent of pancakes.

It was the only type of restaurant, he knew, that served break feast in the evening.

The aroma of the freshly baked goods had clouded his mind, almost giving off a peaceful sensation as if the world was right where it should've been. No problems, no chaos, no pain, just him and his waffles.

He eyes drew tired quickly, he knew right away being in a place like this wouldn't help keep him conscious more than a few minutes. He had to find the guys. Paul was met with a beautiful brunette. She stood both poised and perfect, not a hair out of place. She was tall and thin and she stood behind a podium and watched him with a great deal of concern. She was cute, definitely older then him, but attractive.

"May I help you?" She asked carefully.

Paul's mind wandered away from the smell and onto her. A closer look and he could see that her hair was like a rich shade of mahogany, and her dark lashes could not hold back the brightness that was her emerald-green eyes. She wore red, all red in fact, but Paul was not interested in her clothes. She wore a name tag that read Casey.

"Uh, yeah. I'm here looking for a..a John" He finally managed to put out. Her eyes stayed the same, still in confusion but still gorgeous.

"Well, we have a bathroom right down at the end of the hall there" She said pointing with the end of her pen.

"Uh..Oh no no, I'm sorry. Not "The John", but a man named John"

The aroma of bakery sweets and pancakes had turned into sour eggs and rotten meat. She knew was he meant, she was probably teasing him. That bitch! He thought. His eyes shot a hidden glare as she looked down at her long list of customers.

You idiot, she doesn't love you. He mind quaked with such allegations. Why you? You couldn't even protect Chloe! He nearly tore out his eyes with that one.

"I'm sorry, there is no one here but the name of "John". However, there are plenty of families here, maybe another name?" She asked.

What a tease, she hates you, she wants you out of her life! Just leave! His thoughts weren't just thoughts, they were blows. Like a punch to the rib cage, they became more intense, the more his lethargic mind accentuated on his weakness and exploited his fails, the more dangerous he became to himself.

He coughed violently, strings of saliva past through his lips and onto the floor. One hand had been placed firmly on his knee, and the other on the podium, clinging for support.

"Oh my Go..are you alright?! Do you need me to call someone?" She said, speaking with such caring elegance.

"Vince"

"Excuse me? What his number?" She asked as she grab the telephone hanging on its receiver.

"No no, Is there a Vince here?" Paul asked, wiping the excess fluid that coated his lips.

After a shocking gaze in her eyes, she slowly hangs up the phone. Gawking at me like I was just some druggy wanting to get his fix. Wouldn't matter to him, he had been pulled over by a cop on his way over. He guessed some "good samaritan" had reported a "drunk" or "doped up" driver on the streets, could've been Paul. Except he detested drugs, even though he couldn't have looked more like a pot head that night.

What was about 10 seconds, felt like an hour. As she looked down the list, she repetitively looked up at Paul just to make sure he was in his right state of mind. Her head continued to lower on that scrap of paper, she called a list, and eventually stopped.

"Yes, there is a "Vince" here. Party of four?" She asked.

"Five now" Paul replied.

She nodded and stepped aside, allowing Paul to enter onto the red velvet carpet. He hadn't hated her at all, he just needed rest. Right now there seemed to be two people in side of him. While one consciousness is alive and functional, the other that's hidden seems to be crept away in the back of Paul's mind but still able to stab him in the repetitively in the back.

He spotted them. The four of them sat in an four man island seat, sipping their drinks. Paul spotted Vince first. He wore a black shirt with a white Assassins Creed's Obstergo symbol on the front. He also had a light brown jacket on which made him easy to spot.

Vince was

the first to spot Paul. A wave of relief had crashed over them as they all looked up, and Vince waved him over. It's good to see some people alive Paul thought.

"Where the hell you've been?" Rob said. He spoke harsh but was actually just as relieved to see him alive like the rest of them.

Paul scooted into the both with Robert and Greg, while Greg had made it difficult for him as he fumbled for his camera with a wide grin on his face. Greg had on an obnoxiously bright red jacket that almost made the golden rays of the first morning sun easy to look at.

"Your still doing that camera thing huh?" Paul asked. Greg nodded, he set his camera up on the center divider of the booths. He aimed it towards the five of them so that they were all in frame.

"He's convinced that it's going to help us" Vince said.

"Probably the reason it started all this crap" Robert commented.

Paul's attention wandered off to John, who hadn't even acknowledged his appearance. In fact, his eyes were locked on the table, giving it a sort of blank, dead stare.

"You alright John? You look terrible, I can't imagine what this must be for you" Paul said, attempting to life John's spirits. John's eyes didn't move, neither did his body. Somehow, Paul felt that John's mind wasn't in much control either. "Yeah, I'm all set" John replied monotonically. He posture changed but the look in his eyes didn't.

Paul shot Vinnie a look, they had the same idea. "You feel that" He would've said.

"Yeah" Vinnie would've replied.

A sudden eeriness had come over them, a sudden sense of dread had enveloped their booth, making even the cheeriest of people seem shifty and unbalanced. It gave an ironic theme to the name "Friendly's".

"Okay, well, I'm here. How did we wish to do this?" Paul said, barely managing to let the words come out clearly through his yawn.

"Your house. Chase King, where it all began. Day one" Rob said.

* * *

**{12/21/12} Paul Romano's house - Day One (3:45pm)  
**

"This is the weirdest blackout ever, does anybody even have any signal on their phones?" Paul said, pecking away at his keyboard.

"No, mine just shut off. Chloe's goins to wonder" Heather said. Her fingers tapped hard on the power button, but it stayed dead. Jesse opened her phone and starred in horror at her screen.

"What the hell is going on? Check this out" She said, showing the screen to the both of them. A large burst off bright red and yellow colors had distorted her screen. It was as if she had taken a picture of a flare, but that was impossible seeing as she was here.

"Nice screensaver" Paul said sarcastically.

"Shut up, you know it's not. Damn, I seriously hope this doesn't kill my phone" Jesse said in a panic.

As much as Paul seem to take likely to the phenomenon, he'd been just as curious as to what was going on. His mind had completely set aside. The thundering footsteps of Rob coming out of basement was obnoxious. He'd probably just wanted to get back to playing COD. Paul shrugged to himself and took another sip of his pepper.

"Hey babe, you alright?" He said venturing over to Jesse and wrapping his arm around her. "Hey Paul, where the fuse box man, weird shits going on with Chase and me nor John can get a damn signal"

"It's not a short fuse dude, it's a blackout"

"Seems more like an EMP. All our electronic shit is shot to" Paul finished.

Everybody seemed to be in distress. All except for John and Chase who were downstairs. Jesse and Rob had huddled together, not out of fear, but because Robert seem to be having a hissy-fit at the fact that he couldn't fix his girlfriends phone, or at least give her an explanation as to why. Paul looked at them and smiled compassionately at the fact that they were made for each other. Jesse always seem to act helpless so that Rob could help her. However Rob way always the same; he'd find the problem, curse it out, and somehow find a way to ease the tension. Jesse liked that, in fact, she adored him for his frustration.

Paul snickered in his head, he'd admired his friends, he truly did. However, he'd always seem to see flaws in people, but it wasn't his choice. He didn't want to fight fire with fire, as he had flaws to. He knew judging someone was bad, but his little "gift" or "curse" always made him wanting to point it out. A lot of people had it, it was how they used it that made them who they are.

Heather had gone outside, seeing if she could get some signal. Paul really didn't know why she'd liked John. He was pretty quite and a shy guy. A total mystery actually, yet seen through it all, Heather loved him for him and Paul had no right to disturb that.

The situation seemed to peak his interest. A cold painfully shift in his vision had caused him to look down. _Damn, this hurts!_ cursing to himself, as he wiped away nothing from his eyes.

It was as if he had been looking through non-prescribed glasses, but ten times worse. His vision was painful, and his skull seemed to constrict around his brain. Setting the soda aside, he dug a finger in both sides of his head and began messaging his temple. The ringing only grew louder, and his vision was like somebody slowly pressed two fingers in both of his eyes.

"You alright man?" Rob said. it was one of many rare times he had actually expressed concern without using anger in his tone of speech.

Paul didn't respond. He looked down the main hall and out the front door. He saw a faint glimpse of Heather talking on her phone but the rest was hard to make out. His eyes were not his, his sight was not his, one of the five senses had been taken from him, but not permanently. All of a sudden the bright sunlight, and Heather's appearance had began to darken. It was as if all colors in the world had intensified at once, giving them a more life-like appearance.

He was not looking at one person anymore. Heather paced back and forth on his front lawn, oblivious to the man in black that stood right behind her. He was not far, maybe ten feet, on the street. Paul tried to concentrate on him, but found it difficult to make anything of him.

He was tall and black. That was all he got, a painful yet thrilling image of tall man that had appeared out of nowhere. The colors were so vivid, so life-like, so alive. Paul could not make out the man's face because he'd felt like he was going to end up like the house. Blacked out by unknown confusion and pain. It was a mysterious feeling that all lasted about four seconds in reality, but gave him a feeling of an amazing thrill that he always yearned for. He wanted that excitement, it was his drug.

_More, more, don't leave me, _He thought. The feel of insanity had kicked in, but only on the inside._ More, please. More, more, dammit more!_ He felt something so marvelous that he didn't even notice the thin red line of blood begin to trickle slowly from his noes. At this point, he was inconsiderate about anybody in the house. The trance like state, he had intertwined with had begun to create deep lacerations into his brain.

His "gift" had become a "curse".

"Shit man, wake up!" Robert said, smothering a paper towel under my noes. The trance had snapped, his whole new world had violently shifted back into reality. The feeling he felt was gone, and now the scent of warm, lucid blood rested under his noes. His head pounded and his skull pulsed with a pain more severe then the normal headache.

"Shit, I gotta sit down" Paul said. His arms had been numbed and weakened. The bloody towel, which he'd thought was held in place was actually being smeared left in right. It left behind a bright red mustache.

"Robby, help him with his noes, I'll get him a chair" Jesse said.

The idea of patience hadn't even crossed Paul's mind. His legs went limp, and right there, he slip down the side of the counter onto his ass.

"That works to!" Jesse exclaimed. Heather had rejoined them pretty quickly, after an unsuccessful retrieval of cell phone signal. Paul's eyes fluttered uncontrollably, and his vision had finally stopped hurting him. Heather had just been as worried, but she had complemented on how fast Paul had recovered his color in his face.

"Damn, I felt like I got him with a sledgehammer" Paul said, slowly recovering to his feet.

"What the hell happened man, scared the shit out of us" Rob said. Paul had always found himself to hate when others pitied him. He understood why they did it, but the fact that he was in such a helpless position really frustrated him.

"It's over now, nothing to worry about" Paul wiped away the excess blood from his noes before trashing the paper towel. "I just need a Dr. Pepper"

"He's fine!" Heather said with a slight giggle added. They were relieved. Paul had been up and joking around just as the rest of them. Heather had taken out her cell phone to find the screen distorted with a layer of green. It wasn't a solid color, more of a pixelated texture and a red blurry ring had surrounded the edges. The distorted colors had corrupted her phone and made it obsolete for the time being. However, what really had caught her eye was the weird marking on the upper corner of the screen. Heather's iPhone was marked with a tiny circle, with a diagonal cross, intercepting the circle. She had no means for suspicion and decided not to tell the other, especially when Paul had gone through some sort of trauma.

The laughter and joking was hadn't last long. In fact, they wished it could've gone longer then that. A rather unknown happiness had been silence but the sheer and inexplicable horror and screaming and shouted. A beg for mercy that you'd see in a horror movie, a desperate cry for help.

John's voice could be heard from the basement blaring loudly and begging for help. The four of them moved downwards into the basement, Paul had dragged on behind as he hadn't fully recovered. His was more then ambulatory but he felt as if he needed to vomit.

More screaming came from the girls. Robert was speechless, his mind gazed in confusion and fear which had sparked anger. He was a big fan of phenomenon's, if he wanted to know something, fit of rage or not, he'd figure it out. A collapsed and unmoving Chase had been laying in John's arms, blood masked half of his face, and had coated the bathroom sink and counter tops. John called for a phone, but they had no service, they needed help and nobody came to the rescue. A dying friend laid right before their eyes, and shouting had begun to spur from them. It was chaos, complete anarchy that had reminded Paul of the feeling that he once felt, back in the kitchen.

Paul licked his lips and smiled.


End file.
